


Rock Me Gently

by sunshine_kin



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon, Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-31
Updated: 2005-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshine_kin/pseuds/sunshine_kin
Summary: People cope in different ways. This is Justin's.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Author notes: Title is from 911's song, "Rock Me Gently"

* * *

_And I'd give up forever to touch you_  
Cause I know that you feel me somehow   
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be   
And I don't want to go home right now 

_Goo Goo Dolls - Iris_

It was bound to happen. Reckless driving and drugs whilst under alcohol influence was never a good combination. Most may agree that Justin was lucky he hadn't decided to stay in the car, but The Family knew better.

On the sunny morning of the funeral, Justin stands in the front, eyes glazed and mouth turned down, an expression he often wears hence forward in public. He expects it to rain. To soak him through and through until the water seeps deep into his skin and his empty heart. It doesn't. The sun shines brightly that April morning, and Justin feels guilty the sun pours into his heart with warmth even though Brian was gone. 

Justin looks at the grass under his feet. "Hey there, kiddo," a voice nearby begins. He glances at Deb's face without tilting his head up. "Hang in there, you'll live. You'll find some way to get through this." Justin nods mutely.

He has no idea how true those words would ring.

Across the way, Justin overhears a conversation. 

"Have you seen Justin?" the first voice begins.

The second voice is concerned, "Oh yes, he looks broken. His pretty blue eyes have lost all the happiness he used to carry."

"It's expected, you know, when..." and the voice drops to a whisper, "they're mourning. I will say that Kinney was still a good fuck. He should be grateful he got more than one at all!"

Justin stops listening. 

Rather, he remains frozen in position until he feels someone steering him towards the coffin. He resists, but eventually allows himself to be brought in front of Brian's beautiful form once more. For a minute, Brian just looks pale as if he had cancer again. But Justin knows better, and stares at Brian for a long time. He's wearing a beautiful black suit, as handsome as ever. Only, he's not alive anymore. Justin tears his gaze from Brian's lips as he feels the back of his eyes prickling. Quickly, he pushes his way through the crowd. 

After taking a walk away from the tearful masses in black, Justin stands near a narrow stream with pink flowers jutting out from the pebbles at odd angles. The color, Justin notes, would be lovely in a painting he is working on. 

A familiar arm wraps around his waist, Justin turns, but Brian stops him. "Close your eyes," he whispers serenely.

Justin's eyelids flutter closed and feels himself enveloped in Brian's scent and the tender kiss being placed on his forehead. He embraces the feeling, because he knows this dream will end suddenly and he will lose this chance with Brian forever. There are no other opportunities. 

Eyes still tightly shut, Justin buries his face in the crook of Brian's neck and presses his lips gently whispering fond words Brian can barely distinguish from the murmur of ghosts. He knows "I love you" and "why" were muddled in multiple times, but the voice was enough to soothe him of his troubles.

"Don't open your eyes," Brian begins. "Promise you won't until I say so." Justin's head drops abruptly onto Brian's shoulder. Brian carefully unfolds himself from Justin and positions his chest against Justin's back. He takes his left hand and rests it on Justin's stomach. With his right, he calmly holds Justin's palm and brings his arm up towards the sky. 

"Justin," he pauses for the nod. "Have you ever heard of Dorian Grey?"

Justin's eyes flash open and the sight of a vivid distant rainbow is overshadowed by the cold and lonely feeling of Brian's form blinking away into thin air.


	2. Rock Me Gently

Author Comments: thanks to darksylvia for the beta and the chapter title is from The Pixies' song, "Where is My Mind" off the Fight Club soundtrack.

* * *

_I've seen the rain fall in Africa._  
I've touched the snow of Alaska.  
I've felt the mist of Niagara  
I believe, in you. 

_Boyzone - A Different Beat_  
  
Shocked. His crestfallen face is clearly outlined from the view atop the rainbow. Justin somehow knows that Brian's resting on the rainbow, legs crossed at the ankles, hands folded in his lap and eyebrows tightly creased in thought.

Sighing deeply, Justin sits on the grass until he sees the rainbow begin to fade, wondering how rainbows form without rain.

Justin blinks. Hard. Suddenly feeling fidgety, he speaks aloud, "This is crazy. This," he gestures sharply to the sky similarly to how Brian held his arm up moments before, "is ridiculous. This can't be. I must be dreaming." 

He chuckles to himself and begins the trek back to the crowd of mourners. Just before he's noticed, he casually brushes his tear-streaked face with his sleeve and puts on a brave smile.

"Oh, honey. I'm glad to see you smile. Brian's in another place," his mom gives him a tight hug and holds him close. 

"I know it," Justin states defiantly. "I just wish...I just..."

"What, honey?" Concern is in her tone. Justin is silent. "Sweetheart, if this is about you and Brian being gay and not getting into heaven, that's absolute---"

"--ly untrue. Don't even think about it, mom. Don't jinx this. He might visit me again if he has a chance." Justin runs his hand through his golden hair in frustration. "God, how could I have been so stupid? All I had to do was..." Justin gasps suddenly, "How long would I have had him?"

His mother is clearly confused. But Justin continues mumbling as she tells him quietly that it's time to go and walks him to her car, helps him into it and pulls away from the cemetery. She'll have him at her house for the night, he won't want to go back to...

"Mom, you missed a left. You have to drop me off first!" 

The incredulous expression on his mother's face quickly wrinkles into a frown. But she doesn't argue and takes Justin to the loft.

* * *

Once a comforting sound of security, the resonating thud of shutting the door brings Justin back to the present.

This drained and empty feeling won't leave Justin's body and he wonders if he'll ever be able to smile again. He thinks briefly about Brian's visit from the beyond and his stupidity for not obeying. He begins chastising himself aloud again. Finally he stands in front of the counter, eyes and face red from held-back tears, repeatedly mumbling, "If only, if only..." dozens of times over and over again to himself.

"You didn't think I'd abandon you forever, did you, Sunshine?" a familiar voice begins. Eyes wide and mind reeling, Justin resists turning around. "I had to bargain my remaining ball away to be given a second chance," Brian chuckles. 

The laughter sounds like an angelic melody to Justin. 

As if it were a safety precaution, Justin feels a silk sash slide around his head and over his eyes. Brian's strong fingers thread through his hair, tugging gently at stray wisps of hair before smoothing out. 

Justin doesn't think about how irrational he is, how impossible the situation could possibly be, or how he may just be going crazy. He feels Brian and that's all that matters.

Breathing in the scent of Brian, he decides that if he can't see him, he'll touch him. He slowly brings his hand to Brian's face, gently pressing his fingers against his cheeks, relishing the soft skin of a clean shaven face. Justin no longer cares and clasps his hands around Brian's neck and kisses him fiercely, savoring his familiar taste. 

Justin feels lost when Brian pulls away, and bravely asks, "How long will you stay?"

"As long as it takes," is the whispered reply.


	3. Rock Me Gently

Author's Note: Song from Johnny Reznik's song "I'm Still Here," (the lyrics really remind me of Brian in this fic). Also, note the use of parallel, repetition, and triple-phrased diction in this part. I feel v. literary analytical.

* * *

_I'm having trouble trying to sleep_  
I'm counting sheep but running out  
As time ticks by  
And still I try  
No rest for crosstops in my mind  
On my own...here we go 

_Green Day - Brain Stew_

Brian disappears the next morning, but Justin feels the silk sash still secured around his head. The satisfying feeling of an all-night fuck and its aches are all present. He knows for certain that Brian isn't really dead. After all, artists only hallucinate in movies, and he used a computer for several years before switching back to the good old fashioned stuff that emitted hallucination fumes.

Justin takes the sash, which was evidently one of Brian's ties, and drapes it over one of the electric blue fluorescent tubes over the bed.

Then he decides that life might just be worth living after all, now that Brian's back.

// * \\\

Brian doesn't actually return for another three days. Justin had begun to wonder if Brian would ever come back, and if he'd need to take drastic measures.

Justin wakes up from his midday nap - which involved Brian, lube, and no clothes - to the buzzing of his cell phone.

"That's strange," he says to himself, "That's Brian's ring tone." But nevertheless he scrambles to the kitchen counter for the phone and flips it open. 

"Brian?" Justin can barely contain his excitement.

"No."

"Liar," Justin says happily.

"Then why'd you ask? I'm Santa, checking up on you to make sure you've been a good little boy. Or else you'll get no presents." 

Justin smiles. "If you've been good enough for visitation rights to the land of the living, I'm   
up for sainthood. Angel status. Substitute for God when he's on vacation leave."

But Justin wants to steer the conversation to something more serious. Something with answers, when...

"Now listen very carefully, Justin." Justin inhales sharply, nodding into the phone. "You already know the first rule of this game." Justin nods once again. "You'll need to use caution when you're talking to other people. Wouldn't want you alone in an asylum, hallucinating about ghosts of a long gone lover, now would we?"

_Gone_ , because he wasn't really...dead. The word sounded so final.

"Remember," Brian says playfully, "I'm dead." 

Justin doesn't laugh. 

"I've got to go. Duties," he says, but he doesn't elaborate. 

"Where are you going, Brian?"

"Death wouldn't be a mystery if I told you, Sunshine." Justin can feel Brian smile into the phone. 

Justin thinks about it, but before he can respond, he hears Brian's voice: "Later." And the phone clicks off. Justin hasn’t even taken it from his ear, when it rings once again. Justin exhales.

"Hel--hello?" He begins cautiously.

"Baby!" It's Emmett. And he's excited. "We've got to get you out and about, have some fun, just us girls!" 

Justin agrees because he knows Brian's back, and he's excited, because Brian's back. And unsurprisingly, he's horny. Probably from listening to Brian's voice, since he's _back_. 

"Midnight, honey, we'll meet at midnight. Gives the world a good hour to prepare for the fabulous!" Justin hears Emmett giggle, then hangs up. 

Justin scrolls through his phone's call list to see how long he talked to Brian for, but the screen doesn't indicate Brian called at all. 

Justin's head swims, eyes wide and arms clutching wildly at the counter before him, as his phone clatters to the floor. He swivels around to the desk; where he hasn't touched anything since that night, eyeing Brian's sleek, black phone laying quietly on the desk next to the keyboard. Off. 

"That makes sense," Justin asserts aloud, "I wonder how much the long distance charge is from where he calls me," before he picks up his phone in one graceful sweep and steps into the bedroom to search for a pair of pants worthy of Brian's attention.


	4. Rock Me Gently

Author Notes: Smut! As promised! Title kind of from Rob Thomas' track, "I am an Illusion."

* * *

_Here, I've been here before_  
But only by myself. Myself.  
I promised I'd see it again  
I'd promised I'd see this with you now. 

_\-- Jimmy Eat World - Just Watch the Fireworks_

 

 

The next time Brian appears in Justin's life, Justin is painting by the windows. He fondly recalls the flowers he saw at Brian's funeral and carefully selects colors and brushes to recreate their beauty. 

"I remember those," comes a voice, and Justin smiles wildly. 

His plans involving Brian's return were well-thought out in advance. "Don't move, Brian," he says. Slowly, Justin rolls his hips and threads his fingers through his hair, imagining Brian's reaction. He sucks on the fingers after angling his head back, eyes still tightly shut. 

Justin can hardly contain the flush of arousal. He noisily unbuckles his belt and loosens his pants before shoving his hand into his underwear, his back arching to the feel of his fingers. He feels so horny, so hot, so _wanted_ , as he listens to Brian's deep breaths. 

He can feel the outline of his fingers against the fabric, followed by a surge of heat coursing through his body, knowing Brian is watching him. 

Pressing the tip of his moistened finger against his pucker, Justin yanks the waistband of his pants down with his other hand, trying to ease the stifling heat. Acute senses on overdrive, Brian's approaching footsteps stop him momentarily.

"No, Brian. This is for you." And he knows Brian is watching, intently waiting for the right time. 

His trousers finally slip over his hips and all that remains is Justin's hand, stroking himself inside his underwear. He takes his hand out, running his finger across the small of his back before he slowly begins to unbutton his paint-covered shirt. 

After the third button, he shakes his ass and hears Brian moan, and then feels Brian grab a handful of Sunshine through his underwear. Justin tilts his head back in ecstasy at this contact but quickly slaps Brian's hand away. 

"I can watch you masturbate from elsewhere. I want to fuck, Justin. _Now._ " Brian's voice is impatient, and Justin's smugness is evident as he triples his efforts to keep Brian at bay, yet on the edge.

His fingers lightly flutter across his own skin, Justin's entire body tingles with strain as he resists turning to face Brian, yet aching to catch a glimpse of him. His face, eyes...his dick. Justin's knees weaken at the thought. 

He tosses the shirt over his shoulder at Brian, and feels as if he's going to burst. And they haven't even touched yet. How will he last? He hears the sound of Brian’s shirt hitting the floor and reaches for the tie he put behind the easel in case Brian showed up. Justin ties it around his closed eyelids, spreads his legs widely and leans forward provacatively before easing up and turning around to face Brian. He stretches both arms out from his sides, mimicking Brian's pose the first time they fucked in this very place. 

"You can do the honors of..." and his sentence is cut off by Brian's mouth fiercely attacking his, his tongue roughly shoved into Justin's mouth so that Justin can't help but wrap his arms around Brian's neck and kiss back with urgency. 

Brian is still dressed. Probably in something black, Justin imagines. A wifebeater displaying his beautiful arms, jeans slung low. Or, as if he'd just returned from the office: sexy in his Armani suit, Prada tie, Gucci shoes. Justin realizes he's swooning and smiles into Brian's mouth before stretching his tongue out for Brian to take.

"God, you have no idea how much I missed this," Brian's voice sounds like sex. Justin thinks he could come from listening to Brian whispering huskily into his ear. 

Brian places one hand on his hip, keeping their distance, and the other creeps to the front of his thighs, rubbing gently up and down on his skin before resting on the elastic band. 

They kiss frantically for several moments before Justin feels the flutter of fingers ghost against the front of his underwear, moist with sweat and wetness. Finally slipping his finger under the edge of his left leg, Brian runs one finger down the length of his cock, barely touching him at all. Justin's back arches when Brian shoves both hands down the back of his underwear, squeezing hard, and sliding the material down his thighs in one motion. He feels Brian's hair tickle his nipples and moans, "Please, Brian." He can hear his voice frantic with need, takes one deep, labored breath, "I need..." and suddenly he feels himself pulled against Brian. The fabric of his shirt rubs coarsely against his bare skin. He'd always wanted to do it while he was naked and Brian was still dressed. "Come on..." he begs. 

His ass hits the cool burn of the leather sofa as Brian pushes his chest downwards. 

He hears Brian whispering his name vaguely, "Justin." Why are they talking? Fucking! We should be fucking, he thinks. He feels so desperate and so empty for Brian's cock. His hands are grasping blindly at Brian's body, reaching for Brian's cock through his pants. 

Justin feels Brian gently grabbing the backs of his knees and slowly moving them apart. Overly eager and excited, Justin no longer cares and spreads his thighs as widely as possible, willing to take anything Brian will give him at this point. 

"No, Justin," the husky voice again. Brian lifts Justin's legs up, "Put your feet on the sofa." Guiding him, Justin realizes he's squatting in front of Brian, head and back reclined, exposing his asshole for Brian to---

"Ungh..." he groans. The wet heat of Brian's tongue invades him---how long has he waited for this? Dreamt of this moment, fantasized about Brian's tongue shoved up his hole, fucking him. 

Justin feels incoherent, out of control and lost. It feels too good, and he's so close...his fingers dig into Brian's shoulders tightly in anticipation. 

Justin slides his arms forward, curling himself closer. Leaning into Brian's face, he softly whispers, "Love you." Now, only nonsensical syllables bubble from his lips: groans, purrs, hisses, and 'ahhs' as he gives in to the buzzing sensations.

He feels Brian pause momentarily, staving his orgasm off. He nuzzles his cheek against Justin's neck and sighs contentedly before resuming his task of turning Justin into jelly. 

Suddenly Brian's naked. Justin doesn't think about how this could have happened, instead relishing the contact of skin on skin. He runs his hands everywhere he can reach, memorizing details. 

Brian lazily strokes his cock while licking along his thighs and Justin wishes he could see Brian right now, could catch one glimpse of Brian with his tongue up Justin's ass, with cock down his throat, with love in his eyes. Justin can't resist the temptation and bucks wildly into Brian's mouth. Tearing the tie from his eyes, Justin looks down. 

All that's before him is an empty loft and his angry red cock, with no means of satisfaction.


	5. Rock Me Gently

Authors Notes: One ridiculous minor detail from season 5 that gives nothing away.

* * *

_"You are pulled from the wreckage_  
Of your silent reverie  
You’re in the arms of the angel  
May you find some comfort there" 

_Sarah McLachlan - Angel_

 

Justin becomes increasingly irritating after Brian's unexpected departure. He was left hard and panting completely _alone_. 

He's called in sick for the past fourteen days. People are becoming worried, and it doesn't seem like Brian will return. He ignores everyone who calls, turns away all that knock and his only indication of life to those around him is the frequent, obsessive pacing Justin has done in front of the window. It casts a large silhoutte and he waves down at Emmett dismissively before retreating to the kitchen. 

Justin idly wonders why he didn't ask any of the questions he's been meaning to. Would Brian would ever show up while he was with other people, and if he did, what would they see? Was Brian just visible to him? What if he was in public? Justin feels foolish, believing in ghosts and the return of the dead. It sounds cinematic and poorly portrayed.

Where the hell *is* Brian? Why hasn't he returned since that night? A rage begins to take root inside, targeted at Brian for leaving him _again_. It's not as if he could just call the bastard and say, "Get your ass back home!" he doesn't even know who to call. 

Justin needs some emotional outlet. The plate on the counter shatters on the dark wood floor. The remnants of wine glasses collect into a small mound of glass shards on the kitchen floor. Brian's splintered cell phone lays in the corner, various distinct pieces jutting out from the disfigured plastic.

Justin knows he's enjoying this destruction of their home far too much, but it's too hard to resist. Grinning, he knocks lamps over and overturns the large dining table. Kicks the sofa against the TV before he strides back into the kitchen, hastily grabbing five bottles of alcohol from the cart. 

"Ah, the Jim Beam," he snarls aloud, hand tightly gripping the neck,"Brian loves this stuff..." and with a victorious cry brings it down on Brian's flat panel monitor. The silent buzzing plays in his ears as the liquid seeps across the desk like blood. 

The second bottle is red wine, but _its_ drip marks resemble thinned blood against the stark white living room carpet as the wine slides down the TV screen. 

"Brian!" voice cracking in rage, "Come out! I know you're here!" Suddenly he gets an idea. He unscrews the cap of the vodka and pours it directly into his mouth, most of it dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt. The rest he uses to drown his paintings. The smile brightens as he soaks the bed with the remaining two bottles. "Come save me!" voice glee. Must I be blindfolded again?" Justin sighs, "I've already seen everything!" 

Frustrated and exhausted, he collapses into one of the white dining room chairs. Could it really be that he tried to look again? It would have only been a peek, he reasons. 

His eyes gloss around the room pausing at Brian's lighter on the counter. 

"BRIAN!" he screams, pushing his chair back abruptly with a screech. He drags the chair through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Eyeing his reflection, chest heaving, dark circles under his eyes, and both hands clutching the back of the chair until his knuckles are white, he suddenly hates the image. With another cry of Brian's name, he hurls the chair shuddering against the mirror with a dull crack.

He drops the chair and fumbles toward the living room, "If you're testing my survival skills without you, I can't. I can't do it. I haven't eaten in three days, I haven't slept in four. I don't function anymore without you. Please come visit me..." he falls to his knees in front of the sofa, head laying against it in exhaustion.

* * *

When Justin awakens from the awkward nap, he realizes his efforts were indeed in vain. Brian hadn't shown.

Suddenly feeling fidgety from staying at home waiting for the past two weeks, Justin goes for a drive, for the first time, in Brian's car. He realizes he has no idea where he is going, only that he needs to get there. Perhaps if he is reckless enough, Brian will try to stop him. 

During one of his multiple gas breaks, Justin climbs back into the 'vette and is well on the road before he realizes he's no longer alone. Justin disregards the need to check his blind spot, but relief floods his body when he thinks he sees Brian in his peripheral vision. He's too afraid to look directly, and continues driving, ignoring the persistent feeling of Brian's presence that makes the air thick with words to say but leaves his throat dry and mind empty.

Finally, he knows _this_ is his destination. He has no idea where he's driven to, in what direction or for how long. Only that this beach is beautiful, and that he needs to look. It's almost sunrise, and the colors make his fingers itch to paint it. Justin smiles to himself when he hears the passenger door slam shut and Brian's familiar shuffle echoing his own footsteps. When he reaches the line between land and sea, he closes his eyes and is calmed by Brian's warm chest and chin resting on his shoulder. 

"I owe Zeus a blow-job for this last trip, but don't tell," he says seriously.

Justin smirks, "How big is his dick?"

He feels Brian's deep laughter in his chest as arms fold across his stomach, and Justin focuses his attention on the flickering sparkles across the water at the first glimpse of daybreak. He won't say anything stupid, won't turn around, won't break the comforting silence...

"Justin," Brian says softly, and Justin is jerked from spell. "This is where it all ends, you know? Where it all begins..." The spill of water along the shore catches Justin's attention. "The blur between things...is more subtle than..." he hears Brian swallow. "This...mingling is why I..." For the first time in Justin's life, he feels like Brian is at a lost for words. But he remains quiet and patiently listens. 

"It's not a door, Justin. It's a gleaming archway! With gold trim and a border of damned glowing gardenias! Fuck!" He's exasperated. Is Brian afraid? 

Justin winces, then frowns in confusion. 

"I'm sorry," Brian barely whispers. Then louder, "Come on." Justin keeps his eyes tightly shut as Brian leads him by the hand out toward sea. They walk over the tumbling waves as if it were still sand on the beach, the sun shining faintly beneath his eyelids as the reds and oranges cascade across the sky. 

The deafening ocean crashes slowly fade and Justin knows he's flying.

"Brian, why are you telling me this? I..."

"I know." Justin thinks Brian's awkward breaths cause him to exhale when he repeats, "I'm sorry." 

He sighs understandingly.

Justin feels cold as he climbs higher toward the feathery clouds. Is this heaven? The air feels so thin, he's having trouble breathing, taking great gulps one after another to sustain himself. It's like suffocating. His fingers clench Brian's hand tightly as panic sets in and the cold is almost wet, his hands feel pruny in such dry air. 

But the sensation will eventually pass; he knows he'll make it. 

"Justin," he finally hears Brian's voice echo from far away. "Open your eyes."


End file.
